Fixer in Phase World
by Gadrin
Summary: Welcome to the Megaverse...a series of sci-fi adventures set in Rifts: Phase World setting. RNR please.
1. Fixer in Phase World

**Fixer in Phase World **  
  
_This story features a few of Marvel's villains and heroes, namely Nick Fury, Norbert Ebersol ("The Fixer") and Marvin Flumm ("Mentallo"), thinly disguised under other names and placed in Rifts: Phase World setting. Along with them are a few characters of my own devising, based on figures from the Norse, Greek and Irish mythology.   
  
Garm -- a Space Wulfen and former Phase Mystic gone renegade. He was lured into a life of crime by other members of an interstellar crime cartel and is now Loptr's partner.   
  
Loptr -- a Temporal Warrior and owner of the starship Farbauti. He involves himself to varying degrees in illicit activities of all types, namely kidnapping and gun-running.   
  
Marvin Felum -- a natural psionic who's involved with Loptr. He later forms a bond with Norbert Emerson, who names him "Mentalus."   
  
Norbert Emerson -- an ex-CAF scientist, gone rogue, interested in developing technology for himself. His aptitude with technology is amazing, as he can grasp disparate principles and understand them. For this he's known as the "Fixer."   
  
Nick Furcas -- an Inspector in the Penta Federation Patrol (much like a policeman).   
  
Kronos League -- a semi-oppressive pocket stellar empire based in the Hourglass Nebula of the Corkscrew Galaxy. They're imperialistic and predatory, sponsoring a large military and civilian warships issued Letters of Marque from a planet called Awn. Sometimes called the "Chronos" League.   
  
Penta Federation -- basically a benign conglomeration of a dozen worlds near CCW borders, roughly 500 LYs from the Kronos League. Despite being allies with the CCW and the CAF, they're engaged in constant sparring with their opposites within the Kronos League.   
  
Trade Worlds -- a score of neutral worlds filling in the space beteen the Federation and the Kronos League. Merchants from both sides exploit the Trades for their prosperity in hopes of making riches. Most worlds are slightly less technologically advanced than their neighbors (some even more so) and are subject to varying degrees of protection from each side. Most maintain Independent Defense Forces (IDFs) to protect themselves from Kronian privateers and mercenaries. The CAF and Federation naval vessels prowl these interstellar waters too, since their own citizens travel here quite often.   
  
Red Branch Shipping -- is a multi-stellar cargo line based within the Federation, hauling merchant wares inside the Trades. While not the only such company, it is one of the biggest and best equipped, making Kronian marauders think twice about assaulting their ships.   
  
Kular -- A captain in the Red Branch Knights, the mercenary arm of Red Branch Shipping. Kular is responsible for security and reports directly to the Ownership Council.   
_  
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**Biddus System, Tuesday 20:34 hrs, Year 683 **  
  
_Biddus is a Federation planet furthermost from the CCW and on the border of neutral space, some 50 LY from the neutral region known as the Trade Worlds. The planet is home of BTR (Biddus Technological Research), a company breaking new ground in the field of nanotechnology. Here, we find something happening late one night in one of the executive offices..._   
  
"Just as I thought," said Norbert Emerson, scrolling through the data on his boss' computer. "It seems Dr. Tobias has been playing his cards close to his vest." Emerson hit the page down key and viewed the next screen of information. The data revealed that Tobias had indeed made inroads with T'Zee scientists in the area of nanotech development.   
  
"This item sounds very intriguing." Emerson produced a data-disk and inserted it into the computer, then downloaded all the information in the directory to it. While the computer performed its task he glanced at his chronograph.   
  
The night guard would be making his rounds soon. He had precisely six minutes before he would be discovered.   
  
Copying the data took two.   
  
Nobert Emerson shutdown the computer and realigned Dr. Tobias' desk, then quietly exited the office.   
  
  
  
* * * * *   
  
  
  
_Later that week we find Dr. Tobias engaged in conversation with BTRs Chief of Security over anomalies in the station's security logs..._   
  
"Where was I last Tuesday night?" a somewhat stunned Dr. Tobias looked at the Security Chief. "Why? What's this all about?"   
  
"Please, just answer the question, doctor."   
  
Tobias looked away momentarily, to think. "I was at the opening of that new musical, downtown. My wife sits on the presentation board."   
  
"So several people saw you?"   
  
"What's going on?" Tobias was upset. The Security Chief's look calmed him. "Of course. Yes, about a dozen people."   
  
"Thank you doctor," said the chief. "I thought as much. You see I was correlating the entries in the security log against those in the building's security computer. That's the one that makes entries, each time a checkpoint is accessed. Last Tuesday I show an entry for your office, after hours, however the check-in log doesn't have a corresponding entry for you that night. In fact, I show you left at 6:32 PM."   
  
Tobias was astounded, and slowly lowered himself into the chair opposite the chief's desk. He thought for a few moments, "Who was here that night?"   
  
"According to the log, about a dozen people. So far each has been confirmed as having a valid reason for being there."   
  
"So you don't know who was responsible for the trespass?" asked the doctor.   
  
"No. I'd like you to look at the log and see if anything stands-out. But first," he paused, "Doctor, have you lost or misplaced your access key?"   
  
The doctor reached for his keys. To his reliefl it was on the key ring. "No, but, I did misplace them one afternoon the week before..." his voice trailed off. "I found them a few hours later, in the lab."   
  
"That's what I was afraid of doctor. It seems someone here has borrowed your key and duplicated it. That's how this intrusion was done." The chief handed the doctor the Tuesday night log. "Have a look at this and let's see if anyone in this list was near where you found your lost access key."   
  
  
  
* * * * *   
  
  
  
_The Security Chief has made his analysis and has narrowed his list of suspects to a single man: Norbert Emerson, a brilliant but, egotistic researcher, who thinks himself above his peers. The Chief has informed Tobias, and the pair have laid a trap later that week..._   
  
Norbert Emerson waited patiently until the security guard had gone around the corner, then quickly made his way to the executive office wing. He pulled the clone key from his pocket and entered, then strolled down to Tobias' office.   
  
It took a moment to locate the swivel hinge on the bookcase. He pressed it and out slid a shelf. On it was an electronic device, box-shaped but its front-end was rounded. He briefly examined the keyboard, then touched a particular sequence of keys and a whirring sound engaged, then a soft flash of light. Shortly thereafter a smoky mist appeared in the box's clear cover. Emerson sat in Tobias' chair and waited. After 3 minutes came a beep. Emerson looked, noticing that within the clear cover sat a futuristic, pistol-like weapon. He retrieved it for examination.   
  
A noise in the outer hallway startled him. Norbert turned, hiding the weapon from view. The office door swung open.   
  
"Emerson!" it was Dr. Tobias and the Security Chief, standing in the doorway. "I should've known. I should've listened to your peers. I guess their views of you weren't misplaced. They knew something..."   
  
Emerson erupted in laughter.   
  
"My peers!" Emerson shouted. "Calling that pack of jackals, my peers is indeed an amusing comparison, doctor."   
  
The pair stepped inside, the security chief with his hand on his holster. Dr. Tobias' mouth dropped open when he noticed his secret box -- the Nanopak -- in the open, on the shelf.   
  
His face flushed red with rage, "Your career is over Emerson," intoned Tobias, shocked that his secret project been discovered, "The NanoPak is classified technology. You'll never work again. Even after prison..."   
  
Emerson aimed and fired the weapon. A bright, reddish beam struck the security chief flush in the chest, before bursting in a small explosion. The force of the blast thrust the security man back, against the doorframe, before he collapsed in a heap on the floor. The man's cloth armor offered little protection versus the weapon.   
  
Tobias gaped in shock.   
  
"You're wrong doctor," a smile spread across Emerson's face. He stepped over to the now white-faced man. "It's your career that's over. Mine's just beginning." He fired again, at point blank range, and watched as Tobias crumbled.   
  
Emerson placed the weapon in his belt, retreived Tobias' Nanopak and left the office, carefully locking the door behind him.   
  
  
  
* * * * *   
  
  
  
_Naturally, after committing such a crime, Norbert Emerson felt he should leave Biddus. His plan is to continue researching Tobias' Nanopak, since at heart he's a scientist. However he must leave quickly, via someone who can transport him with no questions. His planning discovered a mercenary group who travel within the Trade Worlds. At this point he's already contacted them and asks them to pick him up at a discreet safehouse..._   
  
"This is it," Marvin Felum thumbed his hand towards the building on his right.   
  
"Garm, pull over," Loptr patted the huge, Wulfen on the shoulder.   
  
The car eased to the curb next to a dingy, flea-bag hotel and the trio got out. The smell of sea water overtook them, since they were near the Wharf District of the city.   
  
Garm growled then fished out a large, laser pistol he kept under the driver's seat. The monstrous creature loved combat. He checked it carefully then secreted it under his greatcoat. Loptr nodded and double-checked his Jackhammer heavy pistol.   
  
"Who is this guy?" asked Loptr as the trio entered the hotel.   
  
"He needs a starship crew that doesn't mind a little action," whispered Felum.   
  
The trio filed past the sleeping desk clerk and climbed the stair. Felum stopped suddenly as they neared the second-story landing.   
  
"I sense something," he whispered, tapping the side of his head twice, indicating it was psionic in nature.   
  
"So, is this a good thing, or not?" asked Loptr.   
  
"I don't know," Felum seemed distant, detached.   
  
Loptr nodded to Garm and the monster produced his weapon and made a quick check of the floor. They could hear the wail of a baby and the sound of a loud television set from one of the other rooms, but nothing seemed strange.   
  
Satisfied, Felum stepped over to room 206 and knocked.   
  
A husky man answered. On his head was a strange helmet.   
  
"You Felum?" he asked. Marvin nodded. The husky man held the door open.   
  
"I'm Emerson, come in."   
  
_to be continued... _


	2. Fixer in Phase World Part 2

Note: for some reason uploading HTML for this chapter didn't work  
and all the HTML "bled thru" looking like br etc, etc, so bear  
with the text...  
  
Fixer in Phase World -- Part 2   
  
2 Months later, Baxta System, 08:23 hrs, Year 683   
  
At this point, the Fixer has discovered a limit to his research with the   
Nanopak. After some checking he's found a likely candidate to aid him with   
further development. Unfortunately the man works for the Federation and would be   
unlikely to cooperate -- at least until the Fixer gets his hands on him. The   
Nanopak can manufacture unusual high-technology goods, including precious   
stones, weapons and the strange psi-helmet the Fixer wears. Through subterfuge   
he discovers the man is vacationing on Baxta, a wilderness world, located inside   
the Federation. The four decide to travel there and abduct him, after the Fixer   
shows Loptr and the others a magnificent gem, with promises of more...   
  
The Farbauti dropped through the planetary atmosphere from orbit, descending at   
a rapid pace, before leveling out near the deck.   
  
"You're sure about this place?" Loptr called from his navigator's seat.   
  
Emerson, standing beside him smiled, then tapped his psi-helmet, another device   
Dr. Tobias' electronic box had produced. "I spoke with his secretary. What she   
said and what she thought were two different things."   
  
Garm, the pilot, growled but Loptr calmed him with a few words. He checked the   
computer panel. "Sensors show should be on the site in about twenty minutes.   
We'll put down a little ways away." The team had put over a dozen hours in   
orbit, scanning the surface with optics and mapping radar, before finally   
discovering a Federation starship, parked on a grassy field.   
  
Emerson grunted and returned to the starship's common area. There was Felum,   
dressed in a red suit of light body armor, strapping on a backpack with a   
circular device set into a harness. Emerson did likewise. Both had control sets   
that strapped onto their arms.   
  
"How much longer til showtime?" asked Marvin.   
  
"Soon. Loptr's going to set the ship down a few miles from the site. We'll use   
these contragrav units to scout the area. My detection gear will do the rest.   
Use your psionics because once we're separated and I jam radio communications it   
will be the only way to keep in touch."   
  
Shortly thereafter, the Farbauti touched down.   
  
Once outside the pair lifted off. They flew for about fifteen minutes before   
Emerson's radio detector picked up comm signals. Angling northwest, the pair   
headed towards a wooded set of hills and landed.   
  
"The signal is strong," explained Emerson, "I'd say we're within 300 yards of   
them. Hmmm," the look on his face soured. The scanner froze on a channel, a   
scrambled transmission was taking place. They might have been detected. "Let's   
move it!"   
  
The pair jogged for a few moments before cresting the hill-line. There, moving   
across a flat expanse below them were six creatures. Radio traffic picked up   
again.   
  
"Damn!" cursed Felum, zooming in with his helmet's multi-optics visor. "Those   
are combat robots."   
  
"They obviously have sensors. We need to split up," said Emerson. "Head east."   
  
Felum, studied his particle-beam pistol, it looked woefully inadequate to deal   
with the armored robots. "I, I don't know."   
  
Emerson smiled, the way he'd smiled at Dr. Tobias, then touched the thick, long   
tube that was slung over his shoulder. "That's why I brought this." It was a   
portable missle launcher. "Just in case." The smile suddenly disappeared from   
Emerson's face, causing Felum to look. One of the bots had broken formation and   
was heading towards them.   
  
"I'm outta here!" Marvin Felum fled into the trees.   
  
Emerson found jamming the bot's radio transmission was impossible while he was   
running, so he stopped and took his time. He looked up to see the advancing form   
of the robot no more than a dozen paces away. He unslung the rocket launcher and   
took aim.   
  
* * * * *   
  
Now we'll see what's happening on the prey's side as the vacationing doctor and   
his bodyguards are out for a stroll...   
  
Evan Kranz had been retired from the Patrol for nearly four years now. The   
scientist he was protecting was under AFact's in-house protection, a group of   
four Muramasa combat bots, the top of their line. It was Professor Bingham who'd   
asked Kranz to join his staff, after the Patrolman had once helped rescue him   
from a damaged starship in space.   
  
Evan noticed the two robots ahead of him had split. The one on his right was   
heading towards the tree line at the base of the hill. The other, ahead and to   
his left, had stopped and was scanning the other.   
  
"Alert," droned the mechanical voice behind he and Professor Bingham. "Point   
Units have confirmed the detection of two energy sources." Evan and the   
professor exchanged glances, unsure of what this meant.   
  
"Energy sources?" asked the Patrolman. "What kind of energy sources?"   
  
There was a few seconds of silence, so Evan repeated the question.   
  
"Data unavailable. Communication link unavailable," was all the bot said.   
  
Evan unslung his GR-15 battle rifle. A whooshing sound overtook the area. Both   
men and bots turned to see a trail of smoke, culminate in an explosion, centered   
on the point robot.   
  
"Professor, get down!" cried Kranz, powering up the battle rifle. "We're under   
attack!"   
  
The explosion echoed across the flat expanse and rolled up the surrounding   
hills, lingering for a few moments.   
  
Several streaks of bright light raced back up to the treeline as the other point   
robot opened fire with its laser. One of the rear bots moved forward and joined   
in, pumping several bolts of energy into the trees along the break. Looking down   
the barrel of his weapon at the area, Evan Kranz saw nothing.   
  
The ex-Patrolman shifted his gaze towards the two robots who had paired up.   
They'd run about a dozen steps and had stopped to scan the area with their   
sensors.   
  
Kranz yelled at the robot closest to Bingham, giving it orders. The bot rose   
from its combat crouch and turned around, its back towards the men. "Professor,   
hitch a ride on the back of that robot," ordered Kranz. "He can run all the way   
back to camp without getting tired. You'll slow him down a bit but he can get   
you safely away from here. I want you to hide in the starship."   
  
"What about you?" asked Bingham.   
  
"Don't worry about me. AFact needs your nanotech expertise," Kranz scurried over   
to the professor and pushed him towards the robot. "If you get hurt, I'll be in   
big trouble." The professor jumped up on the bot's back and the machine chugged   
off.   
  
Just as Evan turned, another smoke trail streaked out from the trees and   
impacted on the nearest robot, blowing it to pieces. "Crap" muttered the   
ex-Patrolman, dropping to one knee. He waited for the other bot to fire, to get   
a sense of the enemy's position, then let loose a few bursts from his rifle.   
  
A tingling sensation overtook Evan Kranz, causing him to turn around. He'd   
figured there was more than one attacker, but now he felt certain. The lead bot   
stopped, pivoted and opened fire on the opposite side of the clearing. Evan   
spotted a figure in red, making his way down the slope. The bot's laser beam   
struck him several times, causing the figure to drop to the ground. Kranz stood,   
from his position, he could see the man clearly. He raised his rifle, took aim   
then opened fire.   
  
Dirt kicked up all around the figure's midsection and his arm popped up   
suddenly, puppet-like. He heard the figure groan, before falling quiet. The   
intruder had stopped moving.   
  
"One down," said the ex-patrolman, turning back the opposite way, just in time   
to see another missle destroy the last robot.   
  
* * * * *   
  
"Felum! Felum!" Emerson used the psi-scanner in his helm, to try and locate his   
associate, but nothing came back. Norbert had fired the rocket and moved   
in-between a pair of boulders about a dozen yards away. Peering out carefully,   
he scanned the base of the opposite ridge, spotting a red dot. He zoomed in with   
his helm's multi-optic visor, onto the lifeless form of Marvin Felum, stretched   
out on the ground. Cursing, he shut the comset and raised his rocket launcher.   
  
The last target was a man, who was half-covered by a pair of small rocks.   
According to the rocket launcher's readout, he had single fire-and-forget missle   
left.   
  
The figure in his sights wasn't firing, instead concentrating on the trees   
Emerson had just come from. Lowering the rocket launcher, he activated his   
psi-helm's neural scanner. The figure looked back towards the retreating   
scientist. Emerson heard a whisper in his mind: rock, rock...   
  
A dozen paces behind his target was a larger rock.   
  
Emerson raised the rocket launcher and targeted the medium-sized boulder. The   
figure darted. Emerson counted to three, then fired. The rocket streaked across   
the intervening distance in an eyeblink and impacted on the rock, just as the   
man arrived.   
  
* * * * *   
  
"This is amusing," thought Emerson as he flew up behind the combat robot   
chugging along, with the professor on his back.   
  
Slowing to a hover, he aimed a sonic stun pistol at the professor's back, firing   
again and again until the scientist dropped off. Surprisingly the man didn't   
fall down, and stood paralyzed and grunting.   
  
The robot turned and fired, but Emerson's well-armored suit handled the red-hot   
laser beam easily. Executing a daring maneuver with the aid of the grav-belt,   
Emerson vaulted upwards, thrusting his legs out and somersaulted in mid-air,   
landing behind the frozen scientist.   
  
"Don't fire!" he clamped his left arm around the scientist's neck and pressed   
the stunner against the side of the man's head. He studied the robot. "You're a   
fine specimen, but I am the technologically superior one here."   
  
With the push of a button, his contragrav belt kicked in, and the pair lifted   
off, the robot watching helplessly as the man he'd been programmed to protect   
flew away.   
  
* * * * *   
  
"These blaster pistols are amazing!" cried Loptr when Emerson had returned.   
Norbert had given one to each man on the trip, including Garm. While he and   
Felum had gone off, Loptr and Garm had done some target shooting.   
  
"This geezer Bingham -- I know the perfect place to stash him."   
  
Emerson let go of Professor Bingham and pushed the half-conscious man at Garm.   
"Stow him inside the ship," he ordered.   
  
Garm growled, causing Emerson to add, "But gently. He's worth a great deal."   
  
Loptr looked around, "Where's, uh, Marvin?"   
  
Norbert removed his helm, and wiped the perspiration from his face, "He didn't   
make it."   
  
"When do you want to leave?" asked Loptr without missing a beat. Felum meant   
nothing to him. His thoughts were on the diamond Emerson had promised them for   
helping. The man had offered two to the starship captain as payment for the   
trip.   
  
"As soon as I stow my gear," Emerson began undressing. "You've made the   
necessary arrangements for the cabin?"   
  
"Just like you said. Uh, my money?"   
  
Emerson smiled, "As soon as we reach orbit."   
  
* * * * *   
  
Two Days Later, Baxta System, 08:23 hrs, Year 683   
When Evan Kranz and his charge Professor Bingham don't report in Federation   
authorities contact the Patrol, to investigate...   
  
Nick Furcas shook his head. In all his years in the Patrol this never got easy:   
finding a friend dead.   
  
Summoned to the planet of Baxta when professor Bingham's associate reported the   
scientist missing, Furcas had been uncertain of what lay ahead.   
  
His friend, Evan Kranz was dead. He'd served briefly with Kranz at HQ on   
Treville.   
  
"Well sir," explained Furcas's lieutenant, "It looks like high-explosive rounds   
took out the Muramasa bots. Good news is they got one of the bad guys, sir."   
Furcas watched the crime scene bot cradle the dead body of Marvin Felum.   
  
The lieutenant examined the shredded armor jumpsuit the dead man wore. A few   
needles shown through.   
  
"Looks like Evan got him," Furcas was all choked up. He stood by silently as the   
crime bot fingerprinted then photographed the dead man for a facial comparison   
scan later. "Any idea of who they were?"   
  
"No sir, I've never seen him before."   
  
Furcas picked up Kranz's gravity rifle and looked around. Despite the size of   
the crime scene, he figured his team would take another three days to scour the   
area and gather evidence. The forensic microbots would be invaluable in this   
terrain.   
  
But the details didn't matter to Furcas. The bottom line was the same: Professor   
Bingham was gone and Evan was dead.   
  
to be continued... 


	3. Fixer in Phase World Part 3

At this point, the Nanopak's ability to manufacture gems has reached  
its limit and the Fixer needs additional revenue to setup a  
development environment and furnish it with additional gear. Since  
there are planetary systems in the Trade Worlds that are relative  
newcomers to technology, the Fixer and Loptr have scouted out one  
that is rich enough, but easily accessible via robbery. In addition  
is the introduction to other remarkable technology available in the  
galaxy, namely micro-robotics and braintaping. Micro robotics are  
tiny mite-sized robots built and programmed to do various functions  
like exploration and digging, all virtually invisibly. They can also  
be used to subvert lesser electronic and computer systems.  
Braintaping is the process of recording a sentient's brain on  
computer and taking a DNA sample. A sophisticated cyberdoc can then  
force-grow a clone, accelerate its growth and restore an individual  
to the point of the original tape -- a form of tech-resurrection.  
However, it's dangerous and not perfect.  
  
TWO WEEKS LATER, SHYME SYSTEM (TRADE WORLDS), 14:19 HRS, YEAR 683  
  
"Try these," Emerson handed Marvin Felum a small plastic bottle of  
pills.  
  
"What are they?"  
  
"Psi booster. You, uh, weren't functioning to capacity last trip.  
That's why you died," explained Emerson.  
  
"I died?"  
  
Emerson related for the fourth time that, yes Marvin Felum had been  
killed and the person he was addressing at the moment, was a clone,  
his mind reinstated via a braintape, an electro-recorded print of a  
living being.  
  
"Yes, horribly," continued Emerson, relishing the moment. "Take one  
three minutes before you enter the bank," he looked up to the front  
of the groundcar where Garm and Loptr were, "You two ready?"  
  
"Yeah, we'll wait for you to come out." Garm backed his partner's  
words up with a growl. The car moved down the street, past the Grove  
National Bank before pausing to let Felum out near a fast-food  
restaurant.  
  
The car went around the block again, this time stopping in front of  
the bank.  
  
"I hope those microbots did the trick," Loptr said to the Fixer,  
"For your sake."  
  
Norbert Emerson looked down at his hand computer and punched the  
SEND button, waited a short while, then stepped out of the car.  
Covered in his armored suit, he drew looks and stares of the  
passers-by in front of the bank. He strode up to the sliding door  
which sprang open. Normally the building's sensors would have  
detected the particle-beam pistol the man held and blocked his way,  
but the microbots were indeed working.  
  
Emerson went inside.  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
"You got the time?" Marvin Felum asked the bank security guard.  
  
There were a half-dozen armed security men in the bank. Only one was  
on the floor currently, the others were inside the security office,  
just off the foyer, which was accessed by a steel security door.  
There was an observation chamber, covered up by two-way glass which  
allowed a pair of guards to watch bank business. This went on every  
day, waiting and watching for something to happen.  
  
A flush feeling came over the floorguard as he looked at his watch.  
His knees buckled and the man dropped to the floor in pain.  
  
"Heh!" Felum snickered and smiled at the ease in which his  
Bio-Manipulation power worked. The woman standing opposite him gave  
him a strange look. He immediately changed to a serious expression.  
Felum bent over the writhing guard, before informing the woman, "I  
think he's having a heart attack."  
  
* * * * *  
  
Inside the security chamber, two guards sat staring out. Grove  
National was a decent-sized bank, it's lobby was a good sixty feet  
across and some seventy feet deep, supporting six teller windows, a  
trio of offices, a small employee room and of course the vault.  
Nearby was a security elevator.  
  
There was a commotion on the floor as several of the customers had  
gathered around someone laying on the ground.  
  
"It's Sid. He's down!" called the guard. He jumped up and grabbed  
the door handle, but it held fast. He pulled on it again. "Damn,  
unlock it!"  
  
The other guard hustled over to the computer terminal, but the  
readout for the door showed green, which meant unlocked.  
  
"It's open," he yelled. The guard at the door tried again but still  
the door wouldn't yield. The guard punched the lock button, toggling  
it on and off, but the door refused to open.  
  
"Get out of the way!" called the guard, running over. The pair  
repeated the process until one of the other guards came out of the  
back room.  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
Norbert Emerson's helmeted, armored frame got the same reaction  
inside the bank as it had outside. After pausing briefly to drop a  
smoke grenade at the front door, he'd entered the lobby. By this  
time Marvin Felum had donned a ski mask, disarmed the unconscious  
guard and raced over to join him.  
  
"Ladies and Gentleman!" shouted Emerson, waving his weapon. "Please  
remain calm. I'm afraid I will require your indulgence for a bit."  
There were screams and cries. Behind the bullet-proof plastic wall  
that protected the bank employees, managers and tellers scrambled to  
hit the alarms and close the vault. Of course there was nothing to  
worry about as the microbots would prevent that.  
  
"Those tablets worked great, boss," said Felum, pulling the laser  
torch from Emerson's belt. He walked over to the security door,  
donned his goggles and calmly welded the door shut. It was only a  
matter of time before the security guards used the manual override  
hatch on the door and escaped. Now it wouldn't matter.  
  
"Please move aside!" yelled Emerson, herding the customers towards  
the building front. He aimed his particle-beam pistol. The tellers  
behind the counter scrambled for cover. There were more screams as  
the robber blasted the hardened-plastic barrier into slag. He tossed  
a pair of large bags through the gaping hole in the barrier and over  
the counter. "Fill those please, large denomination bills only!"  
  
Felum moved over to him, extracted two more smoke grenades and  
heaved them into the foyer. The smoke near the front door was  
already creeping into the bank's main lobby. This was done to  
prevent outsiders from looking in. The police would inevitably  
arrive, as the security team had a radio system that was separate  
from the computer-controlled phone and alarm systems. No matter, the  
microbots had locked the front door and it was constructed of the  
same unbreakable plastic as the teller's barrier. The police had no  
particle weapons, though they undoubtedly had demolitions. But they  
couldn't use them without endangering the customers.  
  
Felum had removed the gas masks from his boss' backpack and the pair  
donned them. As the lobby filled with smoke, a pair of coughing  
tellers slung the bulging bags over the counter and each man grabbed  
one.  
  
Emerson hit the REQUEST key on his hand computer and the microbots  
obediently responded, sending the security elevator down to meet  
them. The pair moved over to the elevator door.  
  
By now the thick smoke made it impossible to see more than a few  
feet away. The elevator chimed when it arrived and those inside the  
bank could hear the door open, the elevator rise, then the doors  
close.  
  
to be continued... 


	4. Fixer in Phase World Part 4

Back in the Penta Federation, Nick Furcas is waiting while the  
Patrol's lab performs its test and analysis of the forensics found  
on Baxta. Taking a few minutes, the Patrolman steps out for a bite  
to eat at a local restaurant on Fost, a Federation world and home to  
the Patrol's HQ...  
  
THREE DAYS LATER, FOST SYSTEM, 18:44 HRS, YEAR 683  
  
"Allan Tarswell, Sparak Advisory Foundation," said the man shaking  
Nick Furcas's hand. Furcas's look was non-comittal, prompting the  
stranger to add, "I'd like to talk to you about Professor Bingham."  
  
They remained in the waiting area a few minutes before the pair   
were seated.  
  
"So, uh, Allan, what can you tell me?" asked Furcas.  
  
Tarswell pulled up his attache case, "Officially, nothing."  
  
Furcas laughed. There was a few awkward moments of silence.  
  
"But, off-the-record perhaps a few things. Are you familiar with  
Professor Bingham's research?"  
  
"No. Not really," explained Furcas, "Only what my briefing officer  
prepared. The Patrol is concerned with locating the Professor and  
his kidnappers, not his official capacity with your, uh, firm."  
  
"Yes, we're a private organization, a 'think tank' in the  
colloquial. Professor Bingham joined us two years ago, he'd come  
from BTR Industries."  
  
Furcas nodded, BTR was a powerful multistellar within the  
Federation. The Patrolman was beginning to get a sense of where this  
was going. BTR had powerful enemies within the industry.  
  
"Again this is all unofficial, but my firm believes Professor  
Bingham's kidnapping was engineered at the request of another firm,  
strictly for competitive reasons."  
  
"AutoBot?" asked Furcas.  
  
Tarswell smiled, as though the Patrolman's reply were a bad guess.  
"I see you're up on industry rumors."  
  
"Not really," said Furcas. "So Allan, what is it that you want?"  
  
Another brief silence. The civilian lowered his voice:  
"Sparak would like permission to examine the energy weapon you  
recovered off the dead man at the kidnap site," pausing before  
adding, "As well as anything else on the body."  
  
Furcas's brows rose. "Uh, I'm afraid that's impossible. My boss  
wouldn't allow it. Policy." He gave Tarswell a look that said he  
should know better.  
  
"Who's your superior?" asked Tarswell. Furcas told him. Tarswell   
produced a cellphone and handed it over to Furcas. "Humor me. Call  
him."  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
Furcas was amazed, not only had his commander allowed Allan Tarswell  
to inspect the items recovered from the dead kidnapper, but was  
allowing him to take them back to his company HQ for further  
analysis.  
  
"So Allan," asked Furcas, "Are they yours or not?"  
  
Tarswell didn't want to launch into an explanation of  
nanoengineering and how the equipment was marked by the manufacturer  
at the molecular level, so he simply told Furcas: "I don't know.  
That's why I'm taking them back." They'd have to be checked by his  
firm's scanning electronic microscope before confirmation could be  
given.  
  
The turn of events was infuriating and the only thing that calmed   
Furcas was that Tarswell would have to travel via Patrol Courier,  
and of course Furcas was going with him.  
  
"Hey Nick," his wrist comm buzzed, it was Jenkins. "There's  
something you'll want to see over at communications."  
  
"Can't, got to see to this thing with Sparak," Furcas said wearily.  
  
"Trust me, buddy," said the voice. "Get over here now."  
  
Furcas asked Tarswell to wait and he took the elevator up to the  
fourth floor, where Jenkins was waiting.  
  
"There was a bank robbery on Shyme," said Jenkins, "The data came in  
with all the crime reports via FTL-comm like usual."  
  
"So?" said Furcas as the pair entered the communications center.  
They walked over to the viewing booth Jenkins had saved for them.  
Jenkins played the security video which had been forwarded with the  
daily information.  
  
"That dead guy you found on Baxta," Jenkins smiled, "We ran his face  
through the photobase and found nothing. But all the hot leads get  
checked with all the new stuff coming in," Jenkins was telling  
Furcas what he already knew. "He robbed a bank on Shyme three days  
ago."  
  
Jenkins paused the display, freezing it on the face the photobase  
had marked as a match. There was Marvin Felum, standing next to the  
bank's security guard.  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
Running from the Patrol and the Independent Defense Forces of the  
Trade Worlds, Loptr and Garm head the Farbauti towards a nasty  
region of space known as the Maelstrom (a stellar phonemenom  
regarded as a Class IV Navigation Hazard in the CCW database). The  
region is cloaked heavily in nebula gasses and its shape is  
constantly moving due to surges in interstellar ley line activity  
and gravitational forces. Sensors and navigation are usually  
severely hampered, however there are those with the experience to  
circumnavigate the area. Inside this region most planets were  
uninhabitable, except for Sandstone, a remote, desert world. The  
perfect place for these guys to hide...not to mention others...  
  
Awn -- is a member of the Kronos League. The system's "naval" base  
is actually a mix of League naval ships and corsairs of the  
Brotherhood of the Fist. Tri-Galactic Military Services maintains a  
recruiting office here as well as having a company-sized contingent  
of troops that serve on "naval" ships.  
  
  
EIGHT DAYS LATER, SANDSTONE SYSTEM, 13:15 HRS, YEAR 683  
  
"Welcome to Sandstone," said Loptr as he and Norbert Emerson  
levitated down the Farbauti's gravity tube to the planet's surface.  
Loptr hadn't been kidding, the place was far off the trade lanes and  
could be classified as a rudimentary settlement at best. "A couple  
of Kronos trading firms use the place as a staging area for their  
operations," Loptr meant the infamous Kronos League. He didn't  
mention that Awnian Freebooters frequented the system too.  
  
There wasn't a starport, not like Emerson was used to in the  
Federation and most Trade Worlds. No, Sandstone was the frontier,  
its port little more that a flat dirt field, with a couple of  
earthen buildings nearby.  
  
Loptr spoke into his wrist comm telling Garm to remain inside with  
Bingham. Moments later, Marvin Felum came down the tube and joined  
them.  
  
"You two armed?" asked Loptr.  
  
Emerson patted his belt, "Yeah, why?"  
  
"Ah, it's just that Garm got into it with a pair of Awnian traders  
last time we were here," As the trio walked away from the Farbauti,  
Loptr scouted the other starships in port. "That was about six  
months ago, I'm sure its all forgotten now," he pointed ahead to one  
of the small earthen buildings. "This place here is the port bar."  
Just to be safe, he double-checked the power setting on his particle  
blaster.  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
"Whose bucket of bolts is it that just landed?" asked the  
Tri-Galactic trooper.  
  
Normally Loptr wouldn't have thought twice about referring to his  
beloved Farbauti in such a manner, at least to himself, but the idea  
that someone else treated her with such disrespect rubbed him the  
wrong way.  
  
"That'd be me," he said raising his hand before sliding back in the  
booth and easing the blaster pistol Emerson had given him out  
slightly.  
  
"One hundred credits," the soldier said.  
  
The bar's door opened and four more combat armored troopers entered,  
pausing just inside the door. Each carried a laser rifle  
  
"For what?" said Loptr.  
  
"Docking fees," said the trooper.  
  
Loptr looked at the door again. Five against three. He dug into his  
pocket, "Yeah, why not. Hey can you get someone to check my landing  
struts, I think I snapped..."  
  
The trooper snatched up the money, "Stow it," he said walking off.  
  
"I see what you mean about this place," said Emerson, after the  
squad of troopers had left.  
  
"Yeah, but it'll grow on you," said Loptr. "Land's cheap and you  
won't be bothered, as long as you know whose way to stay out of. The  
best thing is here the Federation doesn't exist."  
  
"Very well," said Emerson. "But we'll have to stay aboard your ship  
until I can arrange accomodations that are atmospherically  
regulated. My computer equipment will find the harsh environment  
unsuitable. At this point if it's damaged, it will be beyond  
repair."  
  
"Yeah, alright," said Loptr, "But as soon as the Free Traders show  
up Garm and I will probably be making a run or two to the Trades."  
  
Emerson mulled the situation over, "I may have a temporary solution  
if I can find some pre-fab structures," he said. "But I'm going to   
require someone to help me, uh, oversee the professor," said  
Emerson.  
  
Loptr nodded to Felum, "Keep Marvin for now. Garm and I will head to  
Hidegar and see about gettin' a few more guys."  
  
  
* * * * *   
  
  
Here we find Nick Furcas on Shyme, having travelled to the Trade  
World to investigate the details of the bank robbery in person. As  
demonstrated by the photo comparison earlier, the Trades share  
information on criminal activities with the Federation mainly due to  
piracy.  
  
  
"Yeah, they were real smooth too," said the Head of Security of the  
Grove National Bank on Shyme.  
  
He and Furcas were re-watching the video of the bank robbery in the  
security office. He'd watched the whole thing back at his HQ but had  
decided to get to Shyme to see things for himself. He'd let Jenkins  
go back with Tarswell.  
  
"They'd hit us first with a neutralizer bug, in the computer system.  
It gave them complete control of the bank, and us. The only thing we  
had was the radio. We called the authorities but by the time they  
arrived the crooks were gone."  
  
Furcas studied the video. Aside from Felum the other man was masked  
by a helmet. As the unidentified leader walked forward, Furcas saw  
the now familiar particle blaster he held, visually identical to the  
one Tarswell's firm was analyzing. He watched him blast open the  
bulletproof barrier, collect the money and disappear with Felum into  
the smoke.  
  
The Patrolman and the security man walked through the entire  
robbery, from outside the bank to the elevator ride to the roof.  
According to the computer logs that's where it had been taken,  
however no witness saw them on any other level, nor was there any  
evidence of them being on any other level.  
  
The pair got off on the top floor. It was a tiny landing, no bigger  
than ten square feet. A single door led to the open roof and they  
went outside.  
  
"How'd they get off the roof," asked Furcas, almost yelling in the  
strong wind, "Helicopter?"  
  
"Don't know," yelled the bank guard. "That's the strange part of  
it."  
  
"How so?" asked Furcas.  
  
"Well, we had a view of everything they did, until they got into the  
elevator. That's the last we saw of them." The chief nodded towards  
the high-rises behind and to the side of the bank, the police went  
door to door in each of them. They're office buildings and were full  
during the robbery. Granted people don't usually stare out the  
windows at work, but nobody saw them on the roof. No helicopter, no  
climbing gear. Nobody saw anything."  
  
This irked Furcas all the way down to the foyer. The elevator chimed  
as the elevator reached the floor, before the doors opened. Furcas  
thought for a moment, holding the door open with his hand, his body  
half in and half out. A breeze rushed up to his face from the floor.  
  
"Does this building have a basement?" he asked the security man.  
  
"No. No basement. This floor is it."  
  
"There's a breeze coming from somewhere then," Furcas squatted and  
the security man did likewise. A wave of air rushed up to their  
hands.  
  
"Come on," Furcas walked him back to the security office. They  
replayed the end of the video. The smoke prevented them seeing the  
elevator doors, but not from hearing the chime. As the elevator  
reached the floor, it chimed it's arrival. They replayed the video  
over and over, and each time the elevator started up before the  
sound of the doors closing could be heard.  
  
They fetched the building's engineer and had him keep the elevator  
doors open while they sent the car up. Furcas looked at the floor of  
the shaft and smiled.  
  
"I'll be damned," said the security man. The building mechanic  
shrugged.  
  
The three men stared at a man-sized hole, neatly cut into the floor  
of the shaft.  
  
"Well," said Furcas, "Now we know how they got away."  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
Back on Sandstone, Emerson has revived his kidnap victim from the  
cryogenic sleep tube aboard the Farbauti, and is finishing up  
outlining his request for the professor's aid in researching the  
complex Nanopak...  
  
  
"You've tempted me sorely," said Professor Bingham after listening  
to Norbert Emerson and viewing the files he'd stolen from BTR. "This  
is cutting edge technology, very advanced, it represents the  
culmination of the type of work I got into this field for."  
  
Norbert smiled, "Exactly why I need you professor. I'm aware of your  
reputation and commitment to science."  
  
"And also the reason I must decline to help you," said Bingham  
calmly. "You obviously obtained this by dubious means. I'm not a  
criminal, nor would I work for one."  
  
The smile vanished from Norbert's face and he glanced at Felum who  
was standing in the doorway, and nodded. Ten seconds later Bingham  
was reeling from the effects of Marvin's Bio-Manipulation.  
  
Emerson retreived a medkit Loptr had provided him. Inside was a vial  
of Crediline, a drug that could control a subject if administered  
properly.  
  
"I'm sorry professor," said Emerson, "But you've no choice in this  
matter."  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
Back aboard Furcas' Patrol ship at the starport at Shyme...  
  
"Coincidence?" asked Mark Jenkins.  
  
"Not likely," Furcas's comm-specialist had done a search on the port  
entries from Biddus, the system where Tarswell's people had their  
problems, and Shyme the site of the bank robbery. It brought back a  
match. One ship was present in both systems at the corresponding  
times: the Farbauti, registered to Kriegen Enterprises, a small  
trading firm operating from the Hidegar system in the Trades.  
  
According to the spaceport logs requested via interstellar comm,  
the ship wasn't there.  
  
"What's plan?" asked Jenkins.  
  
Furcas had his pilot file a flight plan for Hidegar. With any luck,  
they'd find the Farbauti and her crew in port...eventually.  
  
to be continued... 


	5. Fixer in Phase World Part 5

The scene shifts to Hidegar about a 150 hour journey from Sandstone  
where Loptr and Garm are waiting while the Farbauti gets some needed  
maintenance...  
  
Hidegar -- a Trade World and one of the more sophisticated of the  
group. While it's technology isn't quite at the level of the CCW,  
Federation or Kronos League, it's still a busy and popular  
interstellar port. It's also the home to the Mercenary Guild, where  
operators from the Trades, Federation and the League all converge.  
It's starport is large, taking up the acreage of two, modern,  
international airports.  
"Get down from there!" called the armored guard. The soldier waved  
trying attract the onlooker's attention.  
  
Loptr puffed on his cigar, blowing out a good-sized cloud of smoke.  
Pretending not to hear the trooper, he smiled and waved back. The  
mercenary was standing some 50 feet above, on a catwalk overlooking  
a freight hangar at Hidegar's starport. Loptr's ship, the Farbauti,  
was a half-dozen bays away, getting a look-see by a local ground-  
crew. Loptr had picked up a cargo on Sandstone and headed straight  
for Hidegar, to dump it. Once business was finished here they'd stop  
at the Mercenary Guild and hire some muscle. Garm, the pilot, was  
keeping an eye on the ground-crew as they futtered about the ship.  
Loptr, bored after the space flight, had decided to take a walk,  
have a smoke and watch one of the nearby freighters unload. The  
doors had been locked, but this was no obstacle for the Temporal  
Warrior.  
  
"Get down," the trooper shouted, then waved.  
  
Loptr waved back.  
  
The trooper grew more animated, so Loptr spit.  
  
"This is E9, what's going on out there sergeant?" a broadcast came  
through on the sergeant's helmet. It was the troop commander inside  
the hangar's modular office.  
  
"Some jerk up on the catwalk's watching us unload, sir."  
  
"You know company policy. No one allowed in the unloading area. Get  
him out of there sergeant," the comlink went dead.  
  
The sergeant radioed two of his men, giving them orders to secure  
the overhead area.  
* * * * *  
Out of the corner of his eye, Loptr spotted the service elevator  
with the two troopers when it hit the catwalk level. Both carried  
their plasma carbines non-chalantly, so Loptr remained in place.  
  
"You must leave this area immediately," came the voice through the  
helm's external speaker as the pair approached him.  
  
"Really?" said Loptr, "Why?" One of the troopers stepped behind him.  
  
"None of your business. Now move it," the man thumped him in the  
chest with the barrel. Loptr thought back to Sandstone and the port  
bar. The odds were much better here. He shrugged, dropped his cigar  
butt off the catwalk, then slapped aside the weapon's barrel,  
locking the man's weapon hand in a hand-lock. Using his weight he  
swung the trooper around then spoke the incantation to his Time Slip  
spell.  
  
By the time the pair realized Loptr was behind them, the Temporal  
Warrior had already chopped the legs out from under the trooper  
nearest him. The man's weapon discharged, striking the other trooper  
in the throat. The unfortunate victim staggered, then toppled  
backwards over the rail. Stunned at the sight of his falling  
partner, Loptr easily wrestled the weapon from his grip, and body  
slammed the man into one of the support beams. The Temporal Warrior  
drew his own blaster...  
* * * * *  
"Crap!" screamed the sergeant, diving aside as the armored form of  
one of his men plummeted down on him. Four other soldiers turned  
when their armored comrade hit the ground with a sickening thud. On  
the catwalk above, came the discharge of an energy weapon. The  
outsider was the only one standing.  
  
Pulling himself off the ground the sergeant barked for his men to  
fire. They raised their weapons at the figure on the catwalk and  
opened fire.  
* * * * *  
  
Loptr dropped into a crouch. The net-like pattern of the durasteel  
catwalk allowed his opponents on the ground to see him, but still  
provided an fair amount of protection, as the area around Loptr  
erupted in a storm of energy bolts.  
  
The trooper he'd hit with his point-blank shot was laying on his  
back, and Loptr doubted that the men below would appreciate the fact  
that his weapon was on the "stun" setting, especially since one of  
their number was now laying on the hangar floor with a smoking hole  
in him.  
  
Loptr hit his wrist comm and tapped out a preset signal to Garm,  
hoping tall, dark and shaggy has his comset turned on. Another  
flurry of energy bolts struck the catwalk, so Loptr quickly hopped  
over the unconscious trooper and rolled him against the rail as a  
shield, halting the weapons-fire momentarily.   
  
Loptr's mind went to work on an escape plan, since he had observed  
at least a dozen armored men as part of the freighter's troop  
detail.  
* * * * *  
Garm was under the Farbauti watching the groundcrew work on the  
starboard landing strut's hydraulics, when his wrist comm beeped  
several times. It was a prearranged signal and he was off  
immediately, his mind following a single-thread: help Loptr.  
  
He'd been so tuned to this thought, that he left the blaster Emerson  
had given him inside the starship. He hadn't attuned the device to  
himself yet.  
  
Garm bolted out to the accessway, spotting a group of armored men  
down the street, far to his left. He took off at a run, wrapping one  
of his a huge, clawed hands around the hilt of the vibro-knife on  
his belt.  
* * * * *  
  
Loptr could hear the service elevator as it groaned to life. Using  
the unconscious soldier as a shield was a temporary victory. Once  
the others came up, he'd be a sitting duck. He turned the other way,  
noticing a cross-beam on the ceiling, about twenty paces down. It  
looked close enough for him to jump from the catwalk's railing up to  
it, then he could make his way to the roof and to safety.  
  
A whirring noise interrupted his thoughts. It was the elevator,  
heading up, no doubt filled with troopers. They'd be on the catwalk  
level in moments. Setting his weapon to normal fire mode. He waited  
until the elevator stopped, then fired a trio of shots to keep the  
soldiers back, before dashing forward until he was under the  
cross-beam.  
* * * * *  
As Garm finished his Dimensional Leap, he encountered a squad of  
four troopers, no doubt what Loptr had signalled him about. Two were  
already past him as he drew near. Since they weren't paying  
attention to him, he was able to corral the last pair with a flying  
tackle. The two skidded backwards along the floor and Garm tumbled  
forward, dispatching both with a pair of blasts from the Phase  
Beamer that suddenly materialized out of thin air, before either  
could react.  
  
The other two were calling the elevator down. One of them noticed  
Garm, raised his carbine, aimed and fired.  
  
Garm's adrenaline was already pumping and his mind was in high gear,  
he avoided the attack with a Dimensional Leap.  
  
He materialized behind a storage locker, however his giant 9-foot  
frame was partially visible. Luckily the locker conveniently  
shielded him from another volley of energy blasts.  
  
Pausing momentarily, Garm realized the locker was next to a vertical  
support beam. He placed his Phase Beamer inside one of the  
Dimensional Pockets Loptr had conjured for him, grasped the thick beam  
in his huge arms and climbed.  
* * * * *  
A sleek starship bearing the Federation Patrol's seal, a cluster of  
eight silver stars on a white shield, dropped through the  
atmosphere, touching down at Hidegar's eastern landing pod. After  
identifying themselves to port control, they were relayed the pad  
number of the Farbauti's berth.  
  
Since Hidegar wasn't a Federation system, Furcas's Patrolship didn't  
have the authority to set down next to the fugitive ship, instead  
the Patrolman and his squad of six men had to hop from the eastern  
landing pod to the area where the Farbauti was docked via their  
open-topped, contragrav sled.   
  
While the Patrol ship's personality simulator requested additional  
assistance from the port authority, Furcas and his six men were  
zipping from their landing spot towards their quarry.  
  
With what they knew about these criminals, Furcas's team was armed  
to the teeth. Each man wore body armor and carried a gravitic weapon  
from the ship's weapons locker, which they already knew was  
effective against the opponent on Baxta.  
  
"Coming up on hangar 16," the pilot called into his helmet  
microphone. He banked the craft hard to the port then dove straight  
down, nosing up slightly to hover at the hangar's entrance, allowing  
Furcas and his six Patrolmen to hit the ground running.  
  
Inside the hangar was an small, old freighter. While his men  
surrounded the groundcrew, Furcas boarded the open vessel.  
* * * * *  
Loptr grunted as his fingers caught the crossbeam's edge. His left  
hand had slipped off and he hung precariously from the support. He  
shifted his weight as best as he could and swung his feet. A pair of  
energy bolts crashed into the ceiling so he had no choice but to  
move. As his feet came around, he thrust them up and grabbed with  
his free hand, catching the other side of the support beam with both  
his hands and legs. Grunting, he began shinnying along the girder,  
upside-down, chanting softly the words of an incantation.  
* * * * *  
The two troopers exited the elevator and were shocked to find Garm  
waiting there. Using the same technique as during his climb, the  
intervening space between the renegade Phase Mystic and his  
opponents suddenly shrunk and he wrenched the weapons from their  
stunned grasp, before it returned to normal. He dropped the two  
weapons at his side and drew his vibro-knife.  
  
Garm's blade slid between the gaps on the first trooper's  
chestplate, sinking deeply into the man's armpit. He lashed out with  
his leg and sidekicked the other trooper away, releasing the wounded  
man. The other trooper retreated towards the elevator. Garm hit him  
with a blast from his Phase Beamer and he melted inside the elevator  
cage.  
  
The wounded man was up and moving away. Garm's powers made it too  
easy to overcome these unworthy opponents. He pocketed his Phase  
Beamer, retrieved one of the weapons and pulled the trigger, but the  
weapon didn't fire as it was keyed to the trooper's bio-sig.  
  
Cursing, he grasped it in his hands as club and charged, taking out  
the wounded soldier and moving on to the two others who were closing  
in on Loptr.  
* * * * *  
Below, the formation of troopers had to disperse as one then another  
of their armored compatriots rained down upon them. They regrouped  
and resumed firing at the second intruder, that had suddenly  
appeared.  
  
Six dead troopers.  
  
His bloodlust momentarily sated, Garm dashed down the catwalk,  
climbed the railing and leapt to the girder, the thrust from his  
powerful legs allowing him to cover the distance with ease. He was  
up and snaking along the girder right behind his friend.  
  
Loptr eased his D-Phased form up and through the roof, slowly. The  
acrobatic stunt had taken some toll on him and forced his  
concentration while he held his breath during the spell.  
  
Garm's phased, furry head emerged through the ceiling a few seconds  
later, vibro-knife clenched in his teeth. He put the knife in its  
scabbard and growled at Loptr, who had paused to rest.  
  
Loptr laid back, nodding, "I'm fine," he gasped between lungfuls of  
air. "How many did you get?"  
  
An evil smile Garm appeared on Garm's face which unmistakably meant  
"All of them."   
  
Loptr winced. They were going to have to leave Hidegar quickly.  
  
The pair waited until Loptr caught his breath, then jogged across  
the roof, away from the hangar-front. From this point, six stories  
up, they could see the buzz of armed activity around the Farbauti.  
  
"No!" Loptr's voice was almost a growl. Garm wanted to Fast Draw his  
CAF Rocket Launcher and take care of the Patrolmen around the  
starship. "Those guys down below will be up here quick!"  
  
Growling, the Phase Mystic warped space around the pair and placed  
them on the ground, behind the hangar, from where they fled.  
  
* * * * *  
  
It took the local authorities an extra half-hour to contact the  
Patrol team due to some other emergency.  
  
By that time, Furcas's men had their run of the Farbauti and had  
already bypassed the third-rate security system on the starship's  
computer.  
  
"They didn't come here from Shyme, sir," reported the comm-  
specialist who'd replaced Jenkins, viewing the ship's log. "They'd  
gone directly from Shyme to Sandstone. Then they came here."  
  
"Sandstone?" Furcas wasn't familiar with it, so the specialist  
called up the data on his hand-held unit. "Frontier settlement near  
the League. Intelligence has nothing on it."  
  
Furcas grunted, "What about crew and passengers?"  
  
"Pilot's someone named Garm, the owner/captain is Loptr, but no one  
else this trip. Strictly a cargo run. Hmmm, looks like they had  
three passengers last trip. A Mike Fields, Nevin Eaves and Myron  
Baynes." It was nothing conclusive.  
  
A Patrolman approached, holding an energy weapon, the one Garm had  
left behind. It was the exact duplicate of the one they'd taken off  
the dead man from the kidnapping site and the twin to the one on the  
bank robbery video. Furcas was very happy.  
  
The Patrolmen got descriptions of Garm and Loptr from the  
groundcrew, before the local authorities finally arrived, en-masse.  
  
Apparently they were already searching for a pair of criminals who  
fit the descriptions of Furcas's fugitives.  
to be continued... 


	6. Fixer in Phase World Part 6

We find ourselves viewing a communique between the Head of the  
Ownership Council of Red Branch Shipping and his Chief of Security,  
via interstellar comm. Red Branch is a large shipping company, which  
over the years, has had its share of run-ins with terrorists,  
extortionists, pirates, even its own employees...  
  
Rekkar -- a former Red Branch Knight dismissed in disgrace after the  
company uncovered a corruption racket. Nothing could be proven but  
he was dismissed anyway. He's vowed vengeance on Kular and Red  
Branch Shipping, but is waiting for the right time to move.  
  
Zwan -- a subjugated Pume from Aliens Unlimited. The tigerlike  
feline is an accomplice of Rekkar's and an accomplished and ruthless  
Headhunter.  
SIX HOURS LATER, HIDEGAR TRADE WORLDS  
  
"Do you think it was Rekkar?" asked Alfred "King" Conner, CEO of Red  
Branch Shipping.  
  
Kular, the commander of the trading company's security unit shook  
his head. "No. According to the port police the responsible party  
was the crew of another small starship, a pair known as Garm and  
Loptr."  
  
"That's not what I meant," Conner said irratibly, "Do you think it  
was engineered by Rekkar?"  
  
"I supposed it's possible," replied Kular, "Six men dead. My take on  
Rekkar was that if this was his doing we would know it." Kular  
referred to a former member of their organization, who'd gone  
renegade and vowed revenge.  
  
"And these two you mentioned, what about them?"  
  
"The port authority never located them," Kular cleared his throat.  
"I, uh did find that the Federation Patrol is looking for them as  
well."  
  
This caught Conner's ear.  
  
"Apparently for a string of thefts and a pair of murders, before the  
incident on Hidegar."  
  
Conner looked away briefly, "What types of thefts? Ship hijackings?"  
His business occaisionally suffered losses at the hands of pirates  
and hijackers.  
  
"No sir, according to sources it was industrial espionage at one of  
the Federation's hi-tech firms, we're still trying to localize which  
one. The other was a bank robbery in the Trades, on the Shyme  
system. No one killed in that one, though they got away with almost  
3 million credits."  
  
"Which tech firm?" asked Conner.   
  
"We don't know yet," Kular's nostrils flared. "Give us another week  
and my team will have matched all the murders to all the thefts on  
the frontier."  
  
"And this all started with one guy on a catwalk watching one of my  
ships unload," the frustration shown in Conner's voice.  
  
"The commanding officer felt the man was scouting the ship, for a  
possible hijacking at a later date. He ordered the squad leader to  
remove the threat," explained Kular. "He acted according to policy.  
It seems this pair was more than he bargained for."  
  
Conner shook his head, "So what do you plan to do?" He had to brief  
the Ownership Council later that day.  
  
"I agree that this might have something to do with Rekkar,"  
explained Kular, "No matter how remote. I'm assembling a team and  
plan to look into it. Personally."  
* * * * *  
  
A WEEK LATER ON SANDSTONE  
  
Emerson laughed deeply as Loptr related Garm's version of what  
happened on the catwalk. Tossing the troop commander's men on him  
one by one, held a certain ironic humor for the engineer.  
  
"So we climbed out on the roof and ran away. We commandeered a work  
truck and moved to the north landing zone, found a ship and here we  
are."  
  
"How did you get the ship's pilot to come here?" asked Marvin Felum.  
Loptr wasn't exactly rolling in money and chartering a starship was  
costly.  
  
Loptr looked at Garm who bared his fangs evilly. "We appropriated  
it, after all the Patrol did the same to mine."  
  
"So you never got the extra men?" Emerson's voice was suddenly  
serious.  
  
"Not directly," said Loptr. "After we reached orbit I sent  
a message to the Guild, they'll send a half-dozen guys, here."  
  
Emerson's face went sour, "And what if these men don't work out."  
  
Loptr paused to light a cigar, "You send 'em back."  
  
"No," Emerson crooked his finger twice, "YOU'LL send them back. YOU  
were supposed to find us six men, interview them personally and  
bring them here. Not get into a skirmish at the starport and kill  
six men."  
  
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Loptr closed his eyes and nodded, informing  
Emerson he was right. "When they show I'll take care of them."  
* * * * *  
  
THE NEXT DAY, SANDSTONE  
  
"Your requirements are quite, exotic," blue-skinned Miles Genoc, the  
Uteni armanent dealer aboard the HEXEN pulled out his datapad and  
looked it over.  
  
"I know what my requirements are," explained Norbert Emerson, "I  
need to know if they're available."  
  
"Oh, yes, no problem," said Genoc, "It's just that on this system I  
rarely get such, uh, sophisticated requests. Aside from starship  
weaponry, most of the locals go for the straight-forward approach.  
Anyway, I do have a contact that can manufacture these battlesuits  
you've designed."  
  
"How much?"  
  
"Providing you pick up the Accordian railgun and 90,000 rounds of  
ammunition, I can place the order with my contact for an additional  
twenty-percent over their list price," Genoc kept a close watch on  
Emerson, who didn't even flinch at the price. "The real expense are  
these neural induction interfaces. Your specifications are very  
detailed. It'll take some time, between manufacturing and  
transport."   
  
This didn't seem to bother Emerson.  
  
"Yes, well the shoulder-mounted, particle-blaster slaved to the  
helmet and the jamming gear is standard stuff, though the  
electrified chest plate is a bit unusual," Genoc put down his drink.  
"Tell me, what are you planning to mount the Accordian on?"  
  
"A halftrack," said Felum. Emerson had picked one up from a local  
mercenary while Lopter was on Hidegar.  
  
"All right," said Genoc. "You can take the Accordian and ammo now.  
For the suits I'll need 75%, up-front. I expect a six week  
turn-around on them."  
* * * * *  
The scene shifts momentarily to the mercenary starship FOUR  
KINGS owned by Rekkar and Zwan...  
  
INTERSTELLAR SPACE NEAR THE BIIT SYSTEM, TRADE WORLDS  
  
Rekkar laughed deeply when he read the report of the incident  
involving Red Branch Shipping.  
  
"Zwan, take a look at this!"  
  
A tall, powerful, tiger-like beast left the bridge and came aft,  
into the common room of the small starship. He picked up the  
data-flex and read.  
  
"Your old friends," Zwan dropped the data-flex and looked at his  
partner, sitting with his feet up, smile on his face. Rekkar rarely  
smiled. "Someone you know?"  
  
"No, just fate," the smile faded from his face. "Wish I'd been there  
though."  
  
"It said nothing of Kular," Zwan crossed his arms.  
  
"Hidegar's a small base, Kular wouldn't be there. He's on the bulk  
ships," Rekkar scooped up the data-flex, "This was a public hangar."  
  
A beeping emanated from the cockpit.  
  
"We're coming up on Biit," Zwan informed him.   
  
"I hope your information is right," yelled Rekkar, as Zwan  
disappeared into the bridge.  
  
Rekkar dropped the data-flex, and adjusted his headband.   
  
"The information is fine," yelled Zwan from the bridge. "Just fine."  
* * * * *  
"This is a Patrol matter," Furcas explained to Kular.  
  
"You've no jurisdiction in the Trades," countered the leader of the  
Red Branch Knights. "They've killed six of my men. Tell me where  
they are and we'll handle it."  
  
"I may not have jurisdiction but these men are wanted in conjunction  
with other crimes, THAT OCCURED WITHIN MY JURISDICTION!"   
  
Kular went silent.  
  
"I'M NOT ABOUT TO HAND THEM OVER TO YOU."  
  
"How about help then? You're far from home. What do you have, six or  
seven guys?" Kular pressed his advantage. "I can have 50 men here in  
three days."  
  
"I don't care if you've can get a hundred men," Furcas's voice rose  
again. "I'll handle this with my detail. NOW GET OUT."  
  
Kular pressed his fingers together under the table, breaking a tiny,  
plastic ampule, from which spewed forth a tiny cloud of gnats. He  
then moved slapping his hand on the tabletop in frustration. After  
exchanging glares with Furcas, he grabbed his helmet and stalked out  
of the Patrolship.   
  
Furcas followed him to the patrol ship's hatchway, watched him climb  
into a waiting groundcar and drive off.  
  
The groundcar continued down the access road for a quarter mile,  
before pulling over next to a set of rusty shacks. Kular's adjutant  
got out, looked around to make sure no one could see him, then  
affixed what looked like a small hornet's nest under the eaves.   
  
He returned to the groundcar, which drove away.  
* * * * *  
Back on Sandstone, where under the blistering sun, Marvin Felum and  
Norbert Emerson are working on the halftrack, arming it in case  
their operation is muscled by the bullies in Tri-galactic Services,  
or anyone else...  
"Give me the control relays," Norbert Emerson held out his hand.  
  
Marvin Felum picked up six wires, and stretched them out, then  
slapped them into Emerson's palm.  
  
Emerson worked each wire up through the pintel mount's base and  
through the side opening. "Now the weapon."  
  
Felum, using an exoskeleton, hefted the Accordian and eased it onto  
the mount.  
  
"Fasten it," said Emerson. While Felum secured the mounting pins,  
Emerson connected the relays to the railgun's control box.  
  
Emerson removed a small hand radio from his overalls. He activated  
the unit and the T-shaped hardpoint rotated 360 degrees.  
  
"Rotation works," said Felum.  
  
Emerson hit a second key and the weapon's barrels elevated. He hit  
another key and it rotated down. Then a final sequence of keystrokes  
caused the main support to fold down, laying the weapon flat on the  
halftrack's bed. There was just enough room for the weapon's huge  
ammo hopper.  
  
"Very sweet," said Felum. "It'll be nice havin' this beauty with all  
them Tri-galactic pricks around." He patted the Accordian. "You'll  
even the odds for us baby."  
  
"Never mind that," said Emerson. "We still have to weld the cover  
plate and rig the casing mount and motors. This thing will be  
useless if they can see it." If someone could look in the back and  
see the weapon, word might get around.  
  
Felum nodded and jumped off the vehicle. He wandered over to the  
large metallic plate that lay against the wall to the building they  
were behind. He carefully marked it with chalk, donned his welding  
goggles, lit the laser torch and began burning a hole along the  
markings.  
  
Emerson wiped the sweat from his face. Then went inside the small  
compound that served as their quarters. He went around to the front  
of the lot, where a trench had been dug very precisely. The trench  
angled down into a short tunnel with led to a door. He opened the  
door and went inside. It was much cooler down here, even cooler in  
the pre-fab, air conditioned, underground shelter Norbert Emerson  
had built.  
  
He stopped inside the first room on his right and nodded to  
Professor Bingham, who was busy completing his analysis on the  
computer terminal installed in his room.  
* * * * *  
HIDEGAR  
  
"Their next move is to Sandstone," said Kular's adjutant, Willoughby  
as Kular entered their makeshift office on Hidegar.  
  
The uniformed soldier was staring into a small computer, next to  
which sat the plastic hornet's nest. The small cloud of gnats were  
microbots with comm and recording units, built into their  
microscopic frames.  
  
"Furcas's team has gone through the Farbauti's computer system and  
viewed her travel logs," explained Willoughby. "The last system  
before Hidegar was Sandstone." The adjutant displayed his library  
entry for the desert planet, the information appearing on the wall  
near Kular.  
  
"Good place to hide," commented the leader of the Red Branch  
Knights. "What about Furcas's men?" he tapped the wall with his  
hand. "Won't we run into them there?"  
  
"No sir," Willoughby ran his fingers over the computer and the  
wall-display flashed, into a cyberscribed transcription of the  
microbot's eavesdropping. The text shifted suddenly as Willoughby  
did a search. "They're waiting on the local police here to see if  
they find this Loptr, sir." Again the text display shifted,  
"Furcas's also sent a message to the Patrol outpost on New Vonce,  
asking for a cover ship for the trip to Sandstone. He's worried his  
Patrolship will stick out."  
  
It was going to take Furcas some time to put together an excursion  
to the remote system.  
  
Kular nodded, "Put together two squads for the trip to Sandstone.  
We'll take the fleet courier. And keep a squad here on Furcas just  
in case the locals find Loptr."  
to be continued... 


	7. Fixer in Phase World Part 7

Back on Sandstone, local mercenaries are looking over a group of  
newcomers...a squad of Red Branch Knights incognito...who have just  
arrived on the desert planet...  
  
Skorz -- originally born on Gont, Skorz spent his younger years in  
the Kronos army, where he rose to the rank of captain in the Special  
Forces. After mustering out, he was hired as a security man by a  
Gont organization known as the Fist. Commissioned by Hevace Trandon  
to locate a pair of Utrakkian brothers, he was sent to Sandstone  
where he found them and help setup Trandon's current operation.  
Skorz likes hands-on duties so he lives and works with the  
moneylender on the desert system. Skorz is a chain-smoker.  
  
Hevace Trandon -- born on Gont in the Kronos League, Trandon is the  
emissary of a criminal organization known as the Fist. Initially a  
broker, Trandon made a small fortune smuggling contraband in the Awn  
system, with the help of a corsair brotherhood. With his rising star  
noticed by his Gont overseers, he was sent to Sandstone to setup an  
advance base for a group of Awn privateers. Cooperation between  
criminal organizations isn't unknown, and Trandon loans money for  
support, as well as monitoring the actions of the pirates for their  
Awn masters.  
  
Accordian Railgun -- is from Rifts: Dimension Book 2: Phase World, pg 144.  
SANDSTONE  
  
"Who are those guys?" Skorz leaned over the bar and asked quietly.  
  
The barkeep took a quick glance and poured the mercenary a drink,  
"Dunno. They were here when I opened. I, uh, think I heard them  
mention about dropping down on a lighter or something."  
  
There were at least a dozen ships in port so it wasn't that unusual  
to see new faces. Most were free traders in from the Trades, come to  
the free market that went up at the end of each month.  
  
Skorz waited for his partner's drink to arrive then made his way  
back to the table in the corner.   
  
"You find out?" his partner asked.  
  
"No. Just new faces. They don't look like merchants," Skorz lit a  
smoke, "More like mercs."  
  
"Ya," his partner gulped at his beer. "Hey, look." The man nodded  
over to another table.  
  
The pair's head turned in tandem, as though they were on twin  
swivels, watching another man and an furred alien make their way  
through the crowd and sit at a table.  
  
"Who's the blonde?" asked Skorz's partner.  
  
"His name is Loptr," Skorz took a long drag on his cigarette, "A  
free trader. That muscle-bound thing is with him. They're in with  
those guys I sold the halftrack to," said Skorz, meaning Emerson and  
Felum.  
  
The newcomers eyed Loptr and Garm, then one of them split up.  
  
"Why don't I see where he's going," Skorz' partner downed his drink,  
and pushed his way outside.  
  
Skorz remained in place. Sitting patiently, smoking, watching the  
others.  
* * * * *  
The whine of the railgun died as the circuit was cut. Marvin Felum  
whistled. He stepped out from behind the gun shield, and jumped down  
to the sand.  
  
He and Emerson had commandeered six empty, steel barrels from a  
junk pile, loaded them in their halftrack and taken them out  
beyond the port limits to practice with. The weapon had been  
connected with a 500-round belt. The barrels had been staggered at  
about 5 yards, spread out about 30 feet apart. As the gunner, Felum  
had sighted on the middle barrel then opened fire, raking the weapon  
across the spread. In five seconds the miniguns had delivered 320  
rounds, shredding the barrels completely.  
  
Felum stood, gaping at the blasted targets.  
  
"Wait until we get the camera equipment and neural interface," said  
Emerson. "We'll be able to control them via remote. It'll give us  
the flexibility of another combatant."  
  
Marvin nodded absently. To him, target practice was over, they had  
no more targets.  
  
Emerson had him retreive the barrel bottoms and placed them along  
the ridge line of a nearby hill, while he reloaded the weapon and  
repeated the process. Not only were the bottoms shredded but huge  
chunks of the hill were removed, spilling sand, dirt and rock along  
the path of destruction. The excavation reminded him of Emerson's  
construction microbots, except much faster but nowhere nearly as neat.  
  
The pair found another small ridge line and repeated the process,  
then again and again, before completely destroying the ridge forcing  
them to head back to the port.  
  
"Now I know why Gentry wanted to sell us 120,000 rounds," said  
Felum. Their training exercise had used up almost 5,000 rounds. He  
looked over to Emerson who was smiling slightly.  
  
"What's so funny?" asked Felum, driving the halftrack towards the  
port bar, passing near a squad of Tri-Galactic's finest.  
  
"I was just thinking about what our little baby would do to combat  
armor."  
* * * * *  
  
The scene shifts outside, where Vonez, Skorz' man has just  
returned...  
"He met up with those three, just outside of the bi-level rooming  
house," said Skorz's partner. He, Skorz and Hevace Trandon were  
sitting in the loan-shark's groundcar, watching a group of five men  
standing next to a pinnace, near the port bar.  
  
Trandon shooks his head, "They weren't with any of the Awn crews. I  
saw them all when they came in last night." He looked at Skorz.  
"You're right, they don't look like merchants."  
  
Skorz lit another cigarette, "I doubt if any of the free traders  
could spare the cash to hire six men." He turned to his partner.  
"What do you think? Working passage?"  
  
His partner shrugged, "Could be," his face suddenly straightened.  
"Hold it. Something's stirring them."  
  
The trio looked back to the five strangers, who had suddenly  
produced weapons before fanning out.  
  
Coming out of the bar were Loptr and Garm.  
* * * * *  
Loptr and Garm had gotten no more than three steps outside the door  
when they were surrounded by five armored men, each brandishing energy  
weapons.  
  
The pair looked at the men who stood a few paces away, plasma  
weapons leveled at their chests.  
  
"Loptr Laufnarson," shouted a voice. Standing next to a pinnace was  
another man, hands on hips, a small smile on his face.  
  
Loptr licked his lips, "Do I, uh, know you?"   
  
From between Garm's teeth issued a low growl at the men who had the  
drop on them.  
  
"No, I don't think so," said the man, pulling off his jacket, "But  
this might jog your memory." He turned the jacket around, revealing  
the white shield and triple-red, stripe banner of Red Branch Shipping.  
  
Loptr went cold.  
  
"Yes. We're from Hidegar, I'm Kular," a smile spread across Kular's  
face. "You and your doggy are coming back with us." Kular motioned  
towards his men.  
  
The engine noise of a heavy groundcar or truck entered the area.  
Then a deafening blast of weapons fire broke the air.  
* * * * *  
Emerson used the Accordian to cut a swath of earth, sand and dust  
along the ground a dozen feet from the soldier's who were  
threatening Loptr and Garm. The weapon's fire got their immediate  
attention, then by elevating the weapon, he cut the poor, helpless  
soldiers to pieces as the hail of metal struck them.  
  
Kular, protected by the small spacecraft, watched helplessly as his  
men died.  
  
Garm, instinctively raised a Phase Field and herded Loptr away.  
Kular drew his plasma pistol and fired a few shots in vain as the  
pair disappeared around the bar's corner.  
  
Felum drew the halftrack up, following the fusillade of metal that  
Emerson had cut through the patch of dirt in front of the bar. It  
cornered in front of the pinnace, where Kular had been, the Red  
Branch leader had just enough time to jump through the pinnace's  
hatch and close it before Emerson could aim and fire.  
  
"Dammit!" screamed Emerson, releasing the electronic trigger and  
diving down. The pinnace was not only armored, but the hull's  
charged field had been activated. It was a common defense against  
plasma and particle weapons. The air between the halftrack and  
pinnace was filled with riccochets, some dropping back into the bed.  
Luckily, Emerson wore his helmet and body armor. "I'm all right," he  
yelled. Felum gunned the halftrack forward and around the corner.  
Stopping to let Loptr and Garm board.  
  
"Glad to see you boys," Loptr's smile was oddly calm. "Quick, get to  
my starship!" he yelled.  
  
Felum nodded and circled the halftrack around the bar.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Kular scrambled to the pinnace's observation portal, watching as the  
halftrack fired on his small craft. The craft's small fusion reactor  
was already activated, so he polarized the hull plating. The cacophony of  
metal striking the armored hull lessened noticeably, as the charged  
field deflected some of the railgun's metal projectiles.  
  
The pinnace had a single blaster cannon and Kular raced to it,  
powered it on and rotated the weapon after the halftrack as it drove  
off.  
  
He loosed a single shot, which rocketed over the vehicle, impacting  
on a distant mound of dirt in a huge explosion. He corrected for a  
follow up blast but the halftrack rounded the corner of the bar and  
out of sight.  
  
Cursing, he raced forward, towards the cockpit. As he reached the  
pilot's chair the front hatch opened, bathing him in sudden  
sunlight.  
  
It was one of his men, who'd been inside the bar.  
  
Unfortunately neither was a pilot.  
* * * * *  
The halftrack ground to a sudden stop near the belly of a small red  
& grey freighter, Garm and Loptr exiting hurredly. A tube dropped  
from the freighter's underside, levitating the pair up and into the  
ship.  
  
Emerson was checking the Accordian, while Felum kept lookout,  
jumping as the ship's power generators hummed suddenly to life  
overhead.  
  
Two stories above the dirt field, the starship's belly ramp groaned  
and opened, dropping slowly, laboriously towards the ground. The  
ship was directly opposite the pinnace, about 75 yards down range,  
along an aisle of small craft and ground vehicles.  
  
Loptr rode the ramp down, fastening a multi-optic visor to his head  
and activating the zoom feature.  
  
"Crap!" he yelled, motioning towards Felum. "You two better get to  
the lift tube. NOW!"  
  
Emerson looked up, engaging the visor on his own helm. As his  
macrolens zoomed in he spotted a large, armored figure standing atop  
the pinnace, next to him the pinnace's small turret rotating around,  
towards them.  
* * * * *  
Kular emerged from the ventral hatch in his power armor, the only  
other protection he had against the halftrack's devestating weapon.  
It was poor at best, even if the slugs couldn't penetrate the suit's  
advanced armor, the strong hail of the projectiles might knock him  
over.  
  
A small cloud of dust caught his attention, and he swiveled around  
to follow it. His helm's HUD zooming in, spotting the halftrack  
under the belly of a freighter.  
  
"Corporal Carleton?" he called into his helm's mic. "The  
halftrack's there to the west."  
  
He looked over to see the pinnace's ventral turret rotate towards  
the target.  
  
"Underneath that freighter on the end," he called, seeing two  
figures bail out and run under the ship. The pinnace's cannon fired,  
striking the halftrack in the rear, the resulting explosion ripping  
it apart, flipping the vehicle over before concealing it in a thick  
cloud of smoke.  
  
"Got it sir," cried Carleton.  
  
Kular jumped from the pinnace, unfastened the particle-blaster rifle  
locked to his side and took off running, "Sergeant," he called  
through his comlink, "Keep your cannon on that freighter. If she  
tries to takeoff, blast it."  
* * * * *  
"They blew up our halftrack!" screamed Felum, pounding the  
freighter's closed-circuit viewscreen. Playing out on the monitor  
was the smoking, twisted form of the vehicle they'd been in moments  
before a jagged, gaping hole cut through the back and side of it.  
  
Through the smoke a figure appeared, "Another armored prick!" yelled  
Felum.  
  
Emerson stood next to him. "He's not with Tri-galactic, they don't  
have armor that big." At least he'd never seen any.  
  
"That's Kular," Loptr removed his sensor vizor as he strolled past  
the pair towards the bridge. "Remember that little story I told you  
about the starport on Hidegar," Loptr put on his headset, a nodded  
towards the screen. "He's with their security team."  
  
Emerson grunted, "Well, at least we're safe."  
  
"Yeah," Loptr said, switching on several systems near his seat.  
"Until the guy with the particle cannon shoots at us."  
  
"His cannon ain't big enough to hurt this thing, is it?" asked  
Marvin Felum. The starship was small, but dwarfed the halftrack by  
comparison.  
  
"Won't know until he starts shooting," said Loptr, before barking  
orders to Garm. The ship began to vibrate.  
  
Emerson slapped Felum on the shoulder and pointed to the monitor,  
"Marvin, put this 'prick' down."  
  
Felum nodded, staring at the screen at the figure picking through  
the wrecked halftrack. After about ten seconds of concentration  
Felum found his Bio-Manipulation of no use. Kular's particle rifle  
blasted futilely at the starship's hull.  
  
Moments later Loptr's starship lifted off, without taking any  
cannon fire from the pinnace. Staying low to the deck, she put   
Emerson and Felum off at a safe distance, before gaining orbit to  
leave the system.  
* * * * *  
  
After the slaughter, Skorz is "holding" Kular, for reasons that will  
become apparent...  
"Relax," Skorz said to Kular, "One of these trampers will be pulling  
out for the Trades soon."  
  
After witnessing the battle, Skorz and his partner had retrieved  
their weapons from Hevace's vehicle. When Kular had raced off, the  
pair had boarded the open pinnace and taken the remaining Red Branch  
trooper prisoner, under the pretense of being local officials. Of  
course Kular had no way of knowing Loptr had purchased fake  
ownership papers for his hijacked starship from Trandon the previous  
night. Loptr, who'd been low on cash, had needed to borrow a  
considerable sum of money from the loan-shark as well. Allowing the  
Red Branch Knights to take a paying customer away was simply bad  
business. After Loptr had gotten away, Hevace had specified that his  
newest customer should get a two-day headstart, minimum, so Skorz  
was pretending that his men were looking into the incident, to  
"determine Kular's culpability."  
  
"If I don't radio my starship," warned Kular, "They'll be down here  
come first light." The fleet courier was in orbit, waiting under  
orders.  
  
Skorz shrugged, "They're welcome to. I hope they don't cause any  
trouble. There's 200 armored troopers less than a mile from here."  
Skorz neglected to inform Kular that they weren't his men, just the  
garrision for an independent merchant outpost.  
  
Kular scowled.  
  
"Don't worry," said Skorz, "My men will find these two with the  
halftrack and the railgun and we'll get to the bottom of this."  
* * * * *  
  
Furcas has been busy, and the cover ship has arrived, a non-Patrol  
vessel. He's assembled his own team and arrived on Sandstone...a bit  
late...  
As the OBSERVER approached Sandstone it detected three starships in  
orbit. All seemed to be merchants, except one which broke formation  
and headed the scout craft off. By the time it reached the newly  
arrived starship, the OBSERVER's sensors had detected the ship's  
armanent.  
  
The OBSERVER was a federation-made ship, albeit very old. One of the  
gunned merchants conducted what amounted to a custom's inspection.  
Furcas and three of his men watched as a armed boarding party went  
through the ship, before allowing it to land. Once dirtside, they  
naturally went to the bar.  
  
* * * * *  
Skorz looked at Kular with mild amusement.  
  
"Why did you do that?" he asked.  
  
When Furcas and his men entered the tiny Sandstone bar, Kular had  
gone white, snatched the cap off Skorz's head, donned it and propped  
his head up under his arm. Furcas had organized things faster than  
the Red Branch commander had estimated.  
  
Skorz' gaze shifted to the doorway, where four men were coming in.  
"Ah, not your boys I take it."  
  
"Is there a back way out of here?" whispered Kular.  
  
Skorz smiled, "Who are they?"  
  
"Trouble," he whispered back. "Let's get out of here."  
  
Skorz puffed on his cigarette, keeping Kular in place.  
  
"All right, they're with the, uh, Federation," explained Kular.  
  
Skorz's mouth dropped slightly. Sandstone was far from the  
Federation's border and never saw their ships call here. That meant  
they were with the Patrol. Skorz composed himself, apparently Loptr  
had done something very bad, for the Patrol to come all this way.  
Somehow Kular was involved, maybe a double-cross, maybe a  
bounty-hunter.  
  
Skorz stood, his tall frame shielding Kular from sight. He leaned  
over to his partner, "Find out which ship those four came in on. I'm  
taking our guest out the back."  
  
Kular and Skorz filed over to the storeroom and out the bar's back  
door.  
* * * * *  
  
Skorz' man meets with the Fixer and Mentalus later that night...  
  
"You're lucky none of the locals were killed," said Vonez, "Could've  
turned out bad for you."  
  
Marvin Felum looked at Emerson, making a subtle sign with his hand,  
asking whether he should apply his Bio-Manipulation to their guest.  
Emerson shook his head, since he'd been expecting the visit. Skorz  
had sold the pair the halftrack. Anything they did would invite  
retribution.  
  
"Come to the point," said Emerson.  
  
"Well the boss says he can fix it, so that nobody says nothing about  
who owned the halftrack," said Vonez matter-of-factly, pausing to  
add: "Or where they might be found."   
  
The shooting on the port field was common talk around Sandstone's  
tiny port city. However with the nature of the incident and the  
reputation the port already carried, no one spoke in particulars,  
since as far as anyone knew the "merchants" from Awn might be  
involved.  
  
"How much?" asked Emerson.  
  
"Skorz says ten thousand oughta do it," Vonez smiled.  
  
Emerson nodded to Felum to retrieve the cash. He paid Trandon's man.  
  
Vonez hesitated before leaving, "Oh, and if you know of anyone who  
might pay for information on why a Federation Patrolship landed this  
morning, give me a holler." He smiled before leaving.  
  
Emerson and Felum stared at each other in shock.  
  
"Federation Patrol? Here?" Felum was incredulous.  
  
The pair scrambled for their weapons then ran to check on Professor  
Bingham in the underground lair.  
* * * * *  
"There was some sort of gunfight here, the day before yesterday,"  
reported Furcas's man. "A group of armed men tried to take a pair of  
men away."  
  
Furcas listened patiently to the descriptions of the men. The Wulfen  
had to be Garm, which meant the other was Loptr.  
  
"The trouble was that this halftrack showed up, had a railgun  
mounted on it and shot the group to pieces," he nodded his head  
towards the door. "Right outside."  
  
"Whew," Furcas exhaled. "And?"  
  
"Well, the halftrack drives off, and a pinnace sitting on the  
landing field starts shooting at it with its particle cannon, and  
takes the halftrack out. I got a look at the wreckage, it's a mess.  
Anyway the halftrack had pulled up to this starship and everyone  
must have gotten aboard because after the halftrack gets destroyed,  
the starship takes off."  
  
"Which ship?" asked Furcas, "Where did it go?"  
  
"Nobody knows, or they're not saying."  
  
"The pinnace?" asked Furcas, "What about it?"  
  
"That's the best part. I had a look at it too," he nodded again,  
towards the door. "Parked right outside. The insignia's been painted  
over but I recognized the model right away."  
  
Furcas shook his head.  
  
"The one used by Red Branch Shipping."  
  
Furcas rose from the table and headed for the door, his men in tow.  
They crossed the graded path that served as the roadway in front of  
the bar. A few starships were parked on the edge of the field, near  
the bar, but no small craft. Furcas turned to his man.  
  
"It's gone!" the man pointed to an empty spot a few feet away. "It  
was here, twenty minutes ago!"  
  
Furcas held his temper, "That bastard Kular!" he muttered. He split  
his men up, leaving two to get the ship names and registry numbers  
off the starships on the field. The rest accompanied him, piling  
into the group's own ship.  
to be continued... 


End file.
